


Hot Off the Presses: Chat Has a Copycat

by Scribbling Mama (melgibson87)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adult Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Adult Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Copycat - Freeform, F/M, Gift Fic, Marichat, One Shot, POV Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Potential for longer story, Protective Chat Noir, Steampunk, Victorian, aged-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 02:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16631228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melgibson87/pseuds/Scribbling%20Mama
Summary: This one-shot story is set in Victorian-era Paris where we find Marinette working in her own little shop. She has her (favorite) visitor, Chat Noir, snoozing in the back where she chucks a newspaper at him. Turns out he has a copycat running around town, committing criminal acts that are tarnishing his reputation and possibly hers if it's discovered she knows about him.More than a little worried about him, he still manages to make her smile and gets her to laugh, enjoying the little world they've created for themselves in the small nursery behind her shop.This is where our story begins.





	Hot Off the Presses: Chat Has a Copycat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Freedom_Shamrock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freedom_Shamrock/gifts).



> This story was a request made from a winner of a recent giveaway I hosted on Tumblr.  
> The AU is a steampunk story featuring any side of the Love Square. I went with Marichat in this little one-shot. 
> 
> It does have the potential for a fuller story, one that I would love to continue if there's enough interest generated for it. I haven't done a steampunk story before and I'm actually enjoying the idea more and more with the story working on unfolding in my mind and in my notes as we speak. 
> 
> Anyway, that's for later.
> 
> To help with visualizing certain aspects of the story, Chat Noir is wearing a vest and shirt similar to [this one](http://stitchedtogetherinapreservedjar.tumblr.com/post/86325839563/vest-porn-shrine-of-hollywood-soft). Small Edit/Additional Note: His head wrap looks like Westley from The Princess Bride as [shown here](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e7/3d/fb/e73dfb7683b1f131da1fa164c09fe4fc.jpg). No kitty ears in this piece, but there will be in the updated and expanded story.
> 
> Marinette's outfit looks like [this one](https://steampunkopath.tumblr.com/post/166269677815/steampunk-girl). Her Derringer, which has 'Lucky Charm' engraved across the handle, looks like [this one](https://www.historicalemporium.com/store/003216.php?__utma=1.2145975858.1347987261.1347987261.1347987261.1&__utmb=1.3.10.1347987261&__utmc=1&__utmx=-&__utmz=1.1347987261.1.1.utmcsr=google%7Cutmccn=\(organic\)%7Cutmcmd=organic%7C%C3%A5=Steampunk%20Barbershop%20Quartet&__utmv=-&__utmk=156274363). Her new sewing machine looks like [this one](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/af/8d/dc/af8ddcb67dc71aa7a527378c70c5a697.jpg).

“You lied to me.” She chucked the morning paper at the man dozing on her garden bench. “You’re a criminal. How dare you make me an aider and abettor to whatever shenanigans you’re cooking up?”

Marinette stomped away from him, ignoring his disgruntled surprise. She itched to toss something heavier at him, hoping to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her and her reputation. She’d worked so hard to make a life for herself in Paris. Oh, she didn’t think she could stand to look at him, grabbing her copper watering can.

“Ma Jolie, I didn’t lie to you. These rumors aren’t true.” His footsteps brought him near, too near to her as she filled the can. “I swear I’m no criminal.”

His hand reached around her, tugging the can from her trembling hands and setting it atop the ledge near her washbasin. With gentle fingers, he urged her to turn toward him, beckoning her to look him in the eye as though she could do anything else in his presence.

In all her twenty-two years, she’d never met someone like the man standing before her, clad in the finest vest she’d seen. The black mask covering the upper half of his face, minus his brilliant green eyes only added to his allure. Longer blond strands peeked from beneath the head wrap he wore. For the life of her, she couldn’t fathom why he’d need to wear such a get-up if not hiding from the law.

“If you’re not a criminal, then tell me who you are. Is it really so hard to tell me that much about yourself?” Her hands crept up his chest and fisted his lapels, doing her best to ignore the warmth of the material from his body heat. “Please, tell me who you are.”

Resting her head against his chest, she closed her eyes as her skin met the soft cotton of his shirt. She ignored how the green threads in his vest matched his eyes, knowing they’d only beckon her to seek out his gaze once more. She didn’t think her heart could handle seeing his deception so clear in those peridot depths.

“Marinette, I wish I could tell you who I was, but I can’t.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, his stubble scratching and catching a few strands of her hair. She didn’t mind the mess he was currently making of her hair. She only wanted him. “Not yet, ma Jolie. Just trust me a little bit longer.”

Neither moved as she debated whether she could handle not knowing the truth about this man holding her. She couldn’t believe how quickly he’d weaseled his way into her life and into her heart, taking up more space than she’d given anyone before. Well, besides her parents but they were another story.

Groaning, she pushed out of his lax hold, turning to grab the watering can and return to her evening chores. “You can’t stay, Kitty. Not today. Papa is coming soon to check on the nursery. I can’t have you here. He doesn’t know about you. No one does.”

“I understand.” His eyes followed her as she worked her way down one row of plants and up another. “I won’t overstay my welcome. After all, I’m a gentle-cat that knows when he’s not wanted.”

She looked at him then, a smirk tilting one corner of her mouth upward. “Really now? A gentle-cat? First time we met, you scared me nearly to death. Then, you had the nerve to follow me here.”

“Well, I couldn’t leave you without ensuring you were safe, ma Belle. I would never forgive myself if something had happened to you or those delectable pastries you carried.” He grinned at her, his mask and wrap shifting as his brows wiggled beneath. “Besides, you had your fancy Derringer. You could’ve used it against me at any time. You almost did if I recall correctly.”

She blushed, remembering the way she’d clutched her Derringer close to her leg as they walked toward the nursery that morning. She still couldn’t believe that’d been only a few months ago when he’d dropped into her life. She never did discover why he’d been on that roof so early or how he’d come to fall in front of her, landing on his feet with a surprised yet pleased smile on his face.

“Well, a woman can’t be too careful, even in this part of Paris, Kitty. You’d do well to remember that most of us carry weapons on us.” She stepped toward the washbasin once more, filling her can. “Besides, my little pistol wouldn’t have done more than zap you. It’s not lethal.”

He chuckled at that.

She smiled. She liked when he laughed, almost reminding her of a warm, sunny day from her childhood when nothing could bother her. She had no worries beyond classwork and getting her sketches just right.

She almost wished he’d laugh more but sensed that would open a loaded discussion with him. While he refused to tell her who he was, he’d let bits and pieces of his life slip during his frequent visits to her nursery after hours and even a few before hours. She refused to admit she’d begun to live for those times, especially knowing how much it’d encourage him to continue seeking her out.

She couldn’t allow that to happen. No, that wouldn’t do at all.

“So, you think it would work against this copycat of yours? My little Derringer?” With her can full, she moved back to the final plants needing her attention. “I mean, it’s not the other Derringer I’m developing, but a zap could work, right?”

Another chuckle greeted her. “I shudder to think what this new one will be able to do.”

She swiveled to catch the softening of his features, ignoring the way her heart skittered at the sight. She’d have to watch that if she wanted to keep it safe from inevitable heartbreak. After all, she had no illusions about him and his position in her life. He’d eventually tire of her attention and move onto another woman, someone from a higher social class than her.

She couldn’t grow attached to him. She wouldn’t.

Hoping to keep the mood light and catch him off-guard, she dug into her pocket, her hand gripping her new Derringer. Spinning, she whipped it to her side. “Hey, Kitty, think fast.”

She pulled the trigger, smiling as it hit him in the chest where she’d aimed. The water cascading over the threaded satin and cotton.

He gasped at the sensation of cold water hitting him, his eyes flashing as he jumped up. With the grace of his namesake, he prowled around the row of plants, stalking her with his fingers curved like claws.

“Now, you’re going to get it.” He lunged at her, but she managed to get away, sidestepping one of her bins and dashing down another row.

Giggles erupted as he gave full chase. She broke into a run, thankful she’d chosen to wear pants to tend to her plants that morning. Her skirt for business hours hung neatly in her office. Oh, she couldn’t wait to show it off, having completed it the night before, but for now, she enjoyed his chase.

Her giggles erupted into a startled gasp as he caught her, his hands tickling her mercilessly at the middle until she almost buckled under the onslaught. She never fell though, his hands gripping her firm around the waist and lifting her against him.

“Told you I’d get you.” His words tickled at the hair near her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

She coughed to hide the sudden flaring of color at her cheeks and the heating of her blood. She turned to find his face so close, almost too close. Blue eyes met green, searching for something hidden in their depths. Something that proved this wasn’t just a one-sided attraction developing.

“Yes, you did.” Her gaze dropped to his lips, studying the fullness of his bottom one. She wondered what it’d taste like, how it would feel running across hers.

Shaking herself of those dangerous thoughts, she tapped his hands, grateful when he hesitated only a moment before putting her down. She separated them by a full meter before turning back to him and catching the desire receding from those brilliant eyes, having regained some control over himself.

 _Interesting_ , she mused, realizing she hadn’t been the only one affected. That thought thrilled her, even as she worked to tamp down that excitement. She didn’t know anything about him or his personal life beyond what he’d allowed her to know.

“Marinette?”

“Chat Noir?”

He smiled as he caught the soft teasing in her voice. After all, he tended to keep her full name for important times, preferring to use one of the many pet names he’d developed and tried on her the past few months.

“You’re important to me.” He closed the distance between them, his fingers going toward the strands of hair that’d slipped from her chignon. “Please, don’t go after my Copycat. Let me handle him.”

“Worried about me?” She leaned into his fingers for a moment, allowing his caress to soothe her. “I can take care of myself.”

His smile softened more if that was even possible, she noted.

“I know you can. You’re my Coccinelle, my lucky charm. You can do anything.” Leaning close, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “But, I wouldn’t survive something happening to you. So, please, let me handle him.”

She blinked up at him, unsure she’d heard him correctly. She never believed she’d heard those words from him, wondering if maybe he only meant them as friends, nothing more. Yet, she caught the sincerity and warmth in his eyes. They hadn’t been there when they’d first met. No, those were recent.

She gulped as she tried to imagine what she could say to make him feel better. She couldn’t promise to stay out of this game. She wouldn’t make that promise. She knew she’d only break it, especially if she caught the copycat first.

“I know that look, ma Jolie.” His finger tapped her nose.

She glared at him. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“I’m serious, Marinette. He hasn’t hurt anyone yet, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable.” He pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, relaxing his hold after a moment of uncomfortable tightness.

She wriggled away from him, huffing. Smoothing her shirt back into place, she set about cleaning up her work area, moving toward the front shop where all her floral designs and other gifts she’d made in her downtime.

Scattered among the bouquets were little trinkets, musical do-dads, and pretty treasures. She’d taken great pains in developing an eclectic collection of goods over the past few years, proud of her shop and its burgeoning success.

“There’s an exhibition this weekend. It’s supposed to have several new inventions, including the latest in air travel. Can you imagine? Traveling in the air?” She paused, her mind wandering a bit at the thought of the large zeppelin she’d seen on the poster. Coming back with a shake of her head, she swept closer to her buying counter. “I’m looking forward to seeing the new technology available. Will I be seeing you there, Kitty?”

She looked up when he didn’t respond, finding herself alone.

“Ugh, ornery cat.” She turned toward her office, determined to forget Chat Noir and his ability to slip in and out of her life so effortlessly. “I can’t believe I ever let him come around. Probably shouldn’t have fed him, either.”

Sure, he spoke some pretty words, but she had a hard time believing them.

She huffed at that, knowing it for the lie it was. She did believe them. That was the real problem here.

He made her feel special and desirable. He made her want things she thought impossible to want with someone else, including someone clearly from a higher social class than her own.

With a sigh, she slipped from the pants she’d worn that morning and slipped her newly made skirt up her legs and hips, a satisfied smile slipping across her features as she noted the fit and sway of the fabric around her.

Perhaps that new sewing machine she invested in hadn’t been the worst way to spend her hard-earned money, not when it produced results like this. She’d have to conduct a few more tests though before she put any signage in her store about its possible services to her customers.

Picking up her few pieces of adornments, she walked back into the front of the shop, gasping at the figure peeking through her window.

Chat Noir?

No, he’d have slipped in through the back if he’d wanted to see her again. That wasn’t Chat Noir. This man was a bit taller and lankier than her Chat. Her Chat? His eyes weren’t right, either. They didn’t hold they same brilliant green she’d come to adore. No, those eyes were cold and very, very blue.

Copycat?

Yes, it had to be.

Had he been watching her?

Why?

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://scribblingmama.tumblr.com)


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